


A Storm of Art and Lies

by Guardian_Rose, Guardian_Thorn



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff, Happy, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-17
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-01-15 15:26:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18501772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Guardian_Rose/pseuds/Guardian_Rose, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Guardian_Thorn/pseuds/Guardian_Thorn
Summary: When struggling artist Feyre gets hired to work in a corporate company, she is thrust into A Storm of Art and Lies. She must learn to weather the storm, for the sake of her life.





	1. Suriel's

**Author's Note:**

> Hey Guys!  
> Thank you for clicking on this fic! I hope you enjoy reading it.  
> For this series I am accepting prompts, so comment below and I'll take it into consideration!  
> Kudos is appreciated, much like constructive criticism.  
> Happy reading!! ♡

The snow fell briskly, blanketing the earth in its chilling whiteness. The street was lost under the layer that was building up, the warm street light captured the dancing flakes in their descent, the wind making them seem like they didn’t want to join the mass of snow covering the ground. The only thing disrupting the natural dance of the flakes, was the shivering bundle of shawls making its way from the twenty-four hour convenience store on the corner of the street. The mountain of cotton plowed through the snow, mildly annoyed at the cold now snaking its way past the layers.

 

Beneath the clothes, a shivering body of a young woman was housed, her increasingly numbing fingers clinging tightly to the brown paper bag that housed the resupply of groceries inside. Feyre’s breath became mist in front of her very eyes, a sign of her body trying to reject the dropping temperature. No matter how fast she tried to walk, the piling of the snow slowed her down to a trudge as she passed under the only streetlight on her road. A particularly harsh gust of wind forced the hood to fall backward, the biting cold skimming her flushed cheeks.

 

A small curse falls from her lips, lost in the blizzard, as she surges across the street, focusing all of her energy on getting home as fast as she could, home where there was heating and a fire! She maneuvered the bag into the crook of her elbow as her newly freed hand rummaged through her pocket in search of the keys to her building, teeth chattering loudly in her skull as she fished the metal salvation from her pocket. She holds the fob up to the keypad on the side of the door, her lips tugged into a smile of gratification as the electronic beeping began, signalling the door was unlocked. She practically fell into the building, slumping against the door as she tried to stop the incessant clacking of tooth against tooth. 

 

A small shake of her head freed her golden brown hair from its snowy prison, a small indoor blizzard caused by the falling flakes. After banging her boots against the wall, not particularly caring about the mess the snow would make as it melted, she made her way up the stairs, three floors to go until she could shed off the wet clothes now clinging to her like a second skin. 

 

She toed off her sodden boots, leaving them at the door as she began to unwrap the layers that’d been ultimately useless against the outside world. She overheard the mumbling of her sisters, with whom she lived with whilst they were visiting, but dismissed it in favour of heading to the bathroom, she dumped all the wet clothes into the tub and walked straight to her bedroom. Her body ached as she pulled on a pair of grey fluffy pyjamas, the chill remained in her bones despite the rest of her body warming up. She picked up the soggy bag on her way out of her room, heading to the kitchen to unpack. 

 

The open plan kitchen and living room, divided only by the counter, let her look over at her sisters, similarly dressed in pyjamas ready to sleep. Elain was the first to acknowledge her, smiling warmly as she got off one of the two air beds, they were occupying the living room during their stay, and made her way over to the counter. Nesta looked over at them, her face as cold as the world beyond the window, letting out a soft sigh as she followed Elain’s path to the counter. 

 

“Did you pick up anything good?” She was hoping that her sister had listened to her ranting about the poor conditions in which she lived.

 

“I picked up what I could afford.” Came Feyre’s quick reply, meeting her sisters glare with one of her own. “You don’t have to stay here, you know. I’m sure there’s a hotel around that will cater to your every whim,” she said, dismissing the conversation as she threw the bag in the nearby bin, grabbing three mugs which would be filled with the hot chocolate she had began brewing.

 

“Will you two ever stop fighting?” Elain huffed quietly as she rested her head on her hand, watching the pan of milk on the stove. 

 

The three of them remained silent until the beverage had been poured, then they all moved onto the couch, watching one of their favourite childhood movies together. 

 

﹌

 

Feyre was roused from her sleep by the smell of bacon filling the air. She groaned softly as she stretched and rolled out of bed, rubbing her eye gently as she ventured from her room and went to investigate. She was not prepared for the sight before her, Nesta was stood in the kitchen… and she was….  _ cooking?! _ Feyre said a silent prayer for her kitchen as she approached the counter, leaning on it and watching the meat sizzle in the pan. 

 

“Who would have thought it,  _ the _ Nesta Archeron cooking!” She exclaimed with her sleep laden voice, only to suffer a sharp slap on the wrist from the tongs in her sisters hand. 

 

“Yes, well we can’t all be useless Feyre.” Nesta sniped back as she began plating up the juicy goodness. 

 

Elain was still in a peaceful slumber when her two sisters sat down to begin their meal, Nesta gently shook Elain out of whatever dreamland she was stuck in and handed her her plate of food. The sisters ate in silence, the only words shared were the two set of thanks aimed at Nesta. Elain then began to wash the plates as the three Archeron sisters began preparing for their day.

 

﹌

 

Feyre spent her day locked away in her room, working on paintings and designs commissioned by local businesses. Her latest project was a business sign for the nightclub a couple of blocks away, a shady place by the name of ‘Suriel’s’. Feyre has been in there only a couple of times to get a feel for the vibe the place gave off, hoping to find some inspiration amongst the lights and the music. However, the place just made her skin crawl (she had showered for an hour when she got home both times to try and wash away the feeling). Today was the last day she had to design, tonight she had to pitch her ideas to the owner, who only went by the name Suriel.

 

She looked down at the paper before her, ‘Suriel’s’ in a black flowing script took up most of the page, the word floated on a sea of grey with white shafts adding a subtle gradient to the design. She smiled with triumph and went to shower as it wouldn’t be very professional of her to attend the meeting with paint on her skin or in her hair. After an hour of pampering, priming and practicing her speech in the mirror she left the apartment, waving goodbye to her sisters, donned in high waisted pants and a blazer both the rich shade of blue- her attempt to look professional had made her cringe.

 

Most of the snow had melted on the ground, leaving a sort of slush in its wake, but the warm spring air made sure Feyre wasn’t too cold on the brief walk to the little patch of hell tucked away behind the sign of a nightclub. The breeze kissed her skin, leaving warmth as it took away her worries, her deep breathes mingling with the invisible comforter before being whisked away forever. She turned the corner and noticed the line of people already gathered as they anticipated the doors opening, Feyre tried her best to hide her wince as she strode past the assembled group of patrons, part of her mind wondering how and why they came here. She schooled her face into neutrality as her painted lips stretched into a flirty smile. 

 

“I’m here to see the owner,” she said to the closet bouncer. 

 

“Yeah? Well join the line because all these people apparently have meetings too,” he responded in a gruff voice, his head nodding towards the line of people that clearly did not have a meeting with the owner. 

 

Her smile faltered.

 

“No, I actually do have a meeting. I’m designing the new logo? Feyre Archeron?” She informed him with an eyebrow raised. 

 

He grunted as he checked the list of expected guests, shock painting his face when he realised she was telling truth. 

 

“Apologies, Miss Archeron,” he said in a somewhat softer tone as he opened the door, “please enjoy your stay.”

 

The inside of the club was just as she remembered. Music too loud, the strobe lighting too bright and the building too small for the volume of people trapped inside. She cursed herself for not being ready sooner, mentally reprimanding her lack of time organisation skills as she squeezed through the crowd of bodies. She cringed as people touched her, frowning as a few of them touched a little too low for comfort, causing a mild panic to settle into her mind and spur her on to get through the writhing bodies quicker. A soft huff left her lips as she straightened her blazer and ascended the stairs to the office, she would be glad to never see this place again after today. When reaching the top of the stairs,two more bouncers prevented her from reaching the door that her target was behind. 

 

After two attempts of trying to persuade them of who she was, even showing them the new designs she had brought with her, Feyre was furious.  She pulled out her phone and text the number saved under Suriel, demanding that he ‘let the brutes outside of the office know she’s allowed past.’ Soon after she pressed send, the guards received a message on the walkie talkie that she was allowed in. A smug grin was painted on her lips as she practically sauntered past them and knocked on the office door. The grin soon disappeared as the man who opened the door was the not the bald, fragile looking owner of the club. No, this man was well built, muscles straining under his almost too-white shirt. His hair was like liquid gold as it fell over his shoulders, framing his strong jaw that lead to a devastatingly handsome face.

 

“Ah, hello there, I was starting to worry you wouldn’t turn up.” A perfect voice leaked from the perfect mouth of the perfect man. “I’m Tamlin and I’ll be sitting in on this little meeting.” 


	2. Pitching to Pyrithian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feyre pitches her ideas for the nightclub and a handsome stranger offers to change her life forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone!   
> Here is the second chapter!  
> Again, I hope you enjoy it and if you do be sure to leave a kudos.  
> Constructive criticism is appreciated as well as comments in general, it’s nice to hear if you guys are liking the story so far.  
> Also, I am taking prompts for this series, so if there’s anything you want to request, be sure to comment it and I’ll see if I can work it into the plot somewhere.
> 
> Happy reading!

The colour palettes Feyre would need to paint the man sat in front of her flashed through her mind as she settled her papers on the desk. Suriel had greeted her in a passing moment, as he left the room shortly after Tamlin opened the door. That had left the two of them in uncomfortable silence, the only noises between them was the shuffling of Feyre’s papers and the ridiculously loud music from below. 

 

She had been so lost in the painting she was creating in her mind she hadn’t heard Tamlin clearing his throat expectantly every so often. It was only when he casually rapped his knuckles along the desk she was brought back into reality.

 

“Hello? Anybody home?” He asked in a monotonous voice.

 

She looked up from her designs, getting ready to pitch her ideas to the stranger and the business owner, and took in the man causally slouched in the chair. His muscular frame made the larger-than-normal chair seem small, his mere presence in the room almost suffocating. He acted like he owned the world, but Feyre doubted he had anything to back up the act he was playing. She stared at him, waiting to see if their would be a crack in his armour.

 

“Hellooooooo?” 

 

Feyre raised her brow, not impressed by the interruption, her mind scrambled to try and keep her thoughts in a concise order.

 

“So,  _ Feyre, _ ” Tamlin began as he gestured to the desk languidly, “for a self-employed artist, you seem to be doing very well.” 

 

His voice sounded was pointed, as if he had to test the waters before he could have a comfortable conversation with her. Feyre wasn’t sure what he had meant by the comment, she assumed it was him prying for more information about her business. She was about to tell him when Suriel returned, demanding to get the pitch over with as the customer was being held by the bouncers and he needed to get back to them.

 

Feyre took a deep breath before she looked each of the men across from her in the eyes.

 

“Well then, let’s begin.” 

 

Feyre walked the men through each design, talking them through the choices she had made for the logos and how each aspect reflected the club. They only stopped every time Tamlin’s phone signalled an incoming message. Feyre’s eyes narrowed each time the phone dinged, growing visibly annoyed at the interruptions, what was curious to see though, was how Tamlin’s demeanour changed each time he typed out a reply. His shoulders hunched over slightly and his emerald eyes dimmed as they scanned the screen. She took a mental note of how fast his thumbs danced across the screen, meaning the message was important- perhaps something to do with this very meeting, considering the timing of the conversation.

 

Whilst keeping a suspicious eye on Tamlin, Feyre continued her pitch.

 

﹌

 

The pitch had gone well, Feyre had sold the design and had informed the men of recommended materials and measurements for the various places the design would be used. Tamlin, who Feyre learned was there as a representative of the company that owned the building and would provide the financial backing needed, whilst Suriel just gave his final approval on everything. 

Tamlin had stayed behind in the office to sort out paperwork with Feyre whilst Suriel had gone to fix whatever problem he had to. The tension was heavy in the air as neither of them spoke, just focusing on signing all the paper correctly so they could both leave sooner. 

 

After the last paper was signed, Tamiln’s phone dinged, a smile tugged at his lips as he read the message. He looked up when he was finished, catching Feyre’s questioning stare.

 

“How would you like to come and work with me at Pyrithian?” He asked slowly, his eyes fixed onto her face to gauge any reaction. 

 

“I wouldn’t.” Was her curt reply, she had collected up her papers and was putting them back into her folder. “I already have a job, but thanks anyway.” She explained, dipping her head slightly as she made her way to the door.

 

“There can’t be that many opportunities for a self-employed designer in a small neighbourhood like this.” Tamlin’s voice drifted through the room. “If you worked at Pyrithian, you’d have a steady wage and fixed hours. You’d have your own space to work and the marketing department is fairly small in comparison to other floors, so you wouldn’t even have that many people to deal with.” 

 

The silvery voice made Feyre stop before she had reached the door, she couldn’t say he was wrong and that it didn’t sound nice. 

 

She silently paced over to the desk and took the business card labelled ‘Pyrithian’ and turned it over in her fingers. Feyre quickly glanced over the reverse, noting the email and phone number there before she shoved the card into her blazer pocket. 

 

“This isn’t acceptance, it’s consideration,” she said before she left the office, forced her way through the throng of bodies and out of the hell hole, to go home and rest. 

 

﹌

The Archeron sisters had decided to head to a quiet cafe for lunch, the three of them occupied a small booth near the window. The soft lighting of the small establishment complimented the driftwood tables and light decor. Feyre’s mind was taken to paintings of the ocean, of seas with their blues and the whites twining together to make a masterpiece. She was too busy with the brush strokes in her mind that she hadn’t heard Nesta trying to get her attention.

 

“Not listening again,  _ Feyre _ ?” The name fell from Nesta’s tongue as an insult, dripping with venom as she glared at her sister. 

 

“I am sorry, your royal highness,” the sarcasm was strong in her response, “what were you saying?”

 

“I was saying how Elain and I think you should take the job.” Nesta’s eyes finally left Feyre’s as she glanced down to swirl her coffee. “You’d finally be making a steady wage, you could move away from this Mother-forsaken place and actually make a name for yourself. That is what you left home to do, isn’t it?” 

 

Elain tensed up as she sipped her tea, eyes darting between the two sisters.

 

“Or maybe I left home to escape the insufferable scrutiny of my older sister,” Feyre replied nonchalantly, a small shrug of her shoulder had dismissed the conversation as she turned to look out of the window, happy to watch the passers by. 

 

Elain had set her cup down as Nesta momentarily slipped out of the booth, she turned to Feyre and spoke softly.

 

“Feyre, Nesta does mean well, we all just want you to do your best.” She took another sip of tea before continuing, “if you took the job, you’d only have to design things whilst you’re at work, think of all the extra time you could spend painting if you didn’t have to work at home.”

 

Feyre stayed silent as she nodded along with her sister’s statement, it was true, if she only had to design for one company, her life would be easier, and she could definitely do with a steady income.

 

When they arrived at the flat, Feyre found the business card and dialled the number.

 

﹌

 

Tamlin had been very happy that Feyre had accepted his offer to work for Pyrithian, he even hired the taxi to pick her up for her induction into the company. The drive from her flat had been roughly twenty minutes as she only lived in a small town outside of the city. The building she stood before made her feel insignificant, tiny due to just the size of it alone. Tamlin had met her inside the lobby and signed her in at the desk before leading her to the elevator to begin the tour. 

 

They went from floor to floor, Tamlin explaining the various roles of each department as they walked around. Each department had its own floor, Tamlin explained, to keep them separated enough to focus on the goals of their respective departments, but the close proximity of the other floors still served as a reminder that they worked together as one unit. Tamlin was one of the managers of Accounting and Finance, which was why he had to give approval over the changes to the Suriel’s logo. His floor was was the second floor, while Feyre’s department (marketing) took up the first floor.

 

It was just after lunch when they had finished the tour, and Feyre politely declined Tamlin’s offer to grab lunch together. She clung to her contract, which she was to read over at home and take back signed when she started next week, and waved goodbye to Tamlin as she got into the taxi. 

 

“I can’t wait to see you again, Feyre.” Reached her ears just as the door closed and the taxi took her home.


	3. Settling in

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s Feyre’s first day at work!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone,   
> So sorry that this chapter has taken longer to publish, college started again and exams are soon so I am pretty stressed with those. Please forgive me for not being able to publish as fast as before until I finish with them next month.
> 
> Anyways, here is the chapter, I hope you enjoy reading it! As always, comments and kudos are appreciated and you can also leave a prompt if there’s anything you’d like to see happen!

Feyre had been subjected to the scrutiny of her sisters all morning. Apparently, her choice in clothes wasn’t adequate for the first day at a new job. Granted, she had picked up the first things she had seen in the wardrobe, and she had suffered the consequences. Her sisters were better versed in social warfare, so they had deemed it fit to redress Feyre, redo her hair and makeup and basically change everything about how she had left the bedroom. 

 

Elain had been kinder in her approach, she had tried to explain to Feyre how important a first impression can be among big organisations, of how they can and will judge her on everything about her. Nesta, on the other hand, had let out many, many exasperated sighs as she pointed out invisible flaws. 

 

Even when Feyre had left the house, they still hounded her through text messages during the whole taxi ride to the next chapter of her life. 

 

﹌

 

Tamlin had met Feyre in the lobby of the building; he tried acting like he hadn’t been waiting for her but from the slouched position she had found him sitting in, she knew he had been there a while. 

 

“So, you’ll have you own office and everything and you’ll work by yourself for the most part,“ Tamlin began whilst they were in the elevator, “but you will have… a partner of sorts.” 

 

“Keeping secrets, Tamlin? Not the best way to start our new relationship.” Came the curt reply as the elevator doors opening onto the Marketing floor, Feyre headed straight for her office and left Tamlin standing agape in the lift as it closed again. 

 

Humming softly to herself, she set her bag down next to her desk, sitting down in the chair. She was busy following the instructions left for her on how to log into the computer, so she hadn’t noticed the slender figure resting against her door frame. A soft cheer of victory fell from Feyre’s lips as they turned up into a smile, having mastered the stupid technology. She spent a few minutes clicking on random shortcuts, seeing what they lead to and trying to get used to the computer system. It wasn’t until the figure in the doorway shifted their weight that Feyre looked up from her screen, jumping slightly in her chair.

 

The body that had taken up the doorframe turned out to belong to a woman of average height, she wore a simple blazer of deep purple which contrasted against her pale skin. Her hair, blonde, had been fashioned into a high ponytail which meant her strong face wasn’t closed off. Images of classically beautiful women filtered through Feyre’s mind, before she added the mental picture of this woman to the list. Soft golden eyes met blue as the woman opened her mouth.

 

“You must be Feyre, I’m Morrigan but my friends call me Mor, just thought I’d come and introduce myself.” A small smile tugged at plump lips painted a deep shade of red, “I’m the Marketing Director, so I basically oversee everyone’s projects and make sure people keep to deadlines, etcetera.” Her voice was cool as she stepped into the office, revealing a thin file that had been behind her back as she leaned. The paper was placed on the desk, with the words ‘Archeron’s Debut’ stamped in black ink. 

 

“This is your first project, something small to get you started and to outline the procedures we use for documentation, ordering and finalising with clients, that sort of thing. My office is just around the corner, I expect an update from you by the end-“

 

“Mor, leave the poor girl alone on her first day?” A deep voice filled the room as a tall man came through the door. 

 

His hair, like the night sky captured, was styled to sweep back-exposing the skin of his forehead. His voice was like the ocean, soothing to the ear and Feyre could listen to it for hours. His two-piece suit was also black, the colour suited him well, was accompanied by a shining silver hem-expensive- Feyre noted.

 

The handsome man's eyes rolled over Feyre in her chair, which she wanted to swallow her up just to avoid his gaze. Their eyes met for a brief second before Mor, unintentionally, came to her rescue and stood between them.

 

“Rhysand, don’t you understand the concept of knocking?” Mor asked him sarcastically, rolling her eyes before looking over her shoulder towards Feyre, “I’ll be back after lunch, save any questions until then.” 

 

With a small smile, two slightly bowed heads and a deep farewell, Feyre’s doorway was empty once more.Whilst she was working on her introductory assignment, Feyre kept a list of questions to ask Morrigan about some of the software they used.

 

﹌

Feyre was about half way through her cheesy pasta lunch when her door was knocked on, heralding the arrival of more unwelcome guests. She had opened the door to reveal Tamlin, followed by a red headed friend, who had decided to follow themselves to her office for lunch.

 

Once they had settled in, Feyre learned that Lucien, the red head, hadn’t really wanted to eat lunch together either. In their mutual discomfort, a friendship began to be forged whilst Tamlin rambled on about some of the numbers he analysed.

 

“So, how’s your first day at Prythian?” Came Lucien's attempt at silencing Tamlin.

 

“It’s been okay, just been getting used to everything.” She responded after finishing a mouthful of food.

 

“Didn’t have any problems with Morrigan then? You’re lucky, most new people don’t get a peaceful start in her department.” Tamlin interjected, moving his salad around in his bowl.

 

His comment caused a confused scowl to take up Feyre’s face, the Morrigan she had met this morning clearly wasn’t the same woman the men she was eating with had such a distaste for.

 

“Why would I have any problems with her? We were getting along fine until that Rhysand guy came and took her to lunch. I’m guessing there’s some history between you two?” Feyre quizzed, quietly and confusedly finishing off her food. 

 

“Wait, Rhysand was here? You spoke to him?” A piece of chicken had fallen from Lucien’s mouth and back onto his plate due to the shocked outburst.

 

“Well he more spoke to Mor regarding me…” Her eyebrows knitted together as her confusion grew. “Are you going to tell me the problem with them?”

 

“Feyre… they’re bad people. Rhysand got his job through blackmailing Hybern, Morrigan only got her job because of his sway over the CEO. Amarantha, the woman I work with, used to date him… she told us all about how abusive he was, how he manipulated her to leave everyone she knew. The only thing he couldn’t do was get her fired after they broke up because she is very, very good at her job.”

 

Feyre listened silently, her eyes darting to the window where she saw Mor and Rhysand stepping out of the elevator. His features were schooled into neutrality as they walked to the main office of the floor that belonged to the animated woman accompanying him. 

 

“Okay, so what does that have to do with Morrigan?” She asked once they had entered Mor’s office, her body turning to face her guests. Tamlin didn’t have any reason to lie to Feyre, he had gotten her this new job, had shown her around and been the perfect new friend- so she took a note of his warning, and vowed to herself to keep a distance from the male.

 

“Well- they’re related, so like- bad genes must run in the family.” It was Lucien who explained this time. “The story is, she slept with every guy at the last office she worked at, seduced them so she could steal the companies resources. She probably have done the same here if we hadn’t found out.” 

 

It wasn’t long until the men left to go back to work, saying their farewells with a promise to return for lunch again.

 

When Morrigan came back to check on Feyre, she didn’t have any questions.


	4. Date Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tamlin takes Feyre on a date, what could go wrong?!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!  
> Exam season is upon us so I will update whenever I can! please bear with me!  
> I hope you enjoy this chapter!  
> as always, kudos and comments are appreciated and feel free to leave a prompt!
> 
> credit to my friend for helping me with this chapter, not only did she beta but she also helped with the writing!  
> check out her writing!!

Feyre was content with the routine she had found herself in, happy that her career and life took a unified step forward to where she wanted to be. She’d get to her office just before ten, sharp, where Morrigan would have left a small itinerary for the day. She’d be settled into her tasks when Tamlin and Lucien would knock on her door, lunches in hand, to accompany her for the hour break they were given. After they left, she would settle back into her work until it was time to go home.

 

It had been a week since she had started at the company, seven days in which she learnt more about Tamlin and Lucien. The latter had started to warm up to Feyre, seeing as the new lunch time routine seemed to cement itself into being, and she was pleased to realise he wasn’t as cold as her first impressions assumed. It was to Feyre’s greater pleasure that she learned of Tamlin’s love of art, which was often a topic of conversation between them once they began to text outside of office hours.

 

Rhysand came to collect Morrigan from their floor everyday for lunch, despite her friend’s warning she felt intrigued by the man that elicited the dreamy looks off the women he passed. She couldn’t help but watch the pair as they stalked from the main office to the elevator, her eyes tracking the graceful movements of those who were aware of the power they wielded. However, curiosity did kill the cat and Feyre enjoyed living so she kept a safe distance between them.

 

This was harder to do with Morrigan, Feyre didn’t want to be rude to the woman who could cut her from her job, so whenever she wanted to engage in a more friendly conversation, Feyre would find herself slowly lowering the walls Tamlin had stressed for her to keep up. 

 

﹌

 

“Join me for dinner tonight?” Tamlin asked, with no room for disagreement, once Lucien had stepped out of the office, heading to the toilet.

 

The abruptness of his request had caused Feyre to choke on her scone, her face growing a deep shade of red as she beat on her chest, grabbing her water bottle with her free hand. After recovering from the outbreak of coughs, her eyes met with Tamlin’s own mischief laden ones.

 

“Why?” came her strained response as the redness started to fade.

 

“To… eat…?” Feyre rolled her eyes at the man as she clicked to read an email that had popped up on her screen. “Come on, it’ll be nice, we can get to know each other properly outside of these suits,” he continued at her lack of verbal response.

 

As the sound of keys being tapped filled the air, Feyre glanced over at him momentarily before her eyes focused on her screen once more.

 

“I mean… sure, why not? Will you and Lucien come here? Or should I meet you guys in the lobby?” 

A swooshing sound met their ears as the email was sent, she picked up her savoury scone again and took a much smaller bite. 

 

“Actually… I was hoping it would just be the two of us…” 

 

The barely audible confession caused a fresh redness to bloom on Feyre’s cheeks, she was growing to hate the colour as she felt her cheeks heating up. 

 

“Oh… I see.n that case… pick me up from my place at seven.” She purposefully avoided his gaze, not wanting to see the shit-eating grin he was undoubtedly be wearing. The two of them ate in silence until Lucien returned with a tale of a snippet of gossip he had heard.

 

﹌

 

When Feyre returned home, she began preparing in a hope to look somewhat decent for her date. It had been longer than she’d like to admit since she last dated, and even then it wasn’t really dating, it was more of a mutual need for physical gratification. She chuckled softly at the fond memories, quickly getting lost in the clouds of remembrance… and the steam of the shower.

 

﹌

 

After an hour of getting ready, Feyre had finally persuaded herself into not wearing jeans on the date, she stood in front of the mirror clothed in a black dress that fell just before her knees, a respectable length that allowed her to showcase her freshly waxed legs whilst remaining modest. Her lips were painted a deep burgundy, complimenting the traces of eyeshadow around her eyes. Feyre had just finishing straightening her hair when Tamlin’s text came through on her phone. 

 

To her surprise, he had come to her door instead of waiting out in the car, her surprise grew when she opened the door to him presenting a small bouquet of flowers. The floral arrangement filled Feyre’s home with soft yellow and pink hues as it sat in a previously forgotten vase on the table in her living room. 

 

Pleasantries and compliments aside, the two of them headed down to Tamlin’s car. Feyre wasn’t really into cars, so Tamlin’s bragging was lost on her, but she nodded in agreement when his eyes lit up after spouting another fact. 

 

﹌

“So, where are we going?” Feyre’s voice cut through the silence that was steadily slipping into awkward. 

 

“Oh, you know, just for dinner.” Tamlin’s eyes were trained onto the road, only leaving momentarily to flash a smile across to his passenger.

 

Sighing softly, Feyre turned to gaze out of the window, trying to find any hints as to her location. The sign they passed by a while ago indicated they were heading towards uptown, home of the wealthy and all of the high end restaurants. Her eyes catch the main gate that lead into the large park at the centre of the city, marking it down mentally.

 

“Can you at least give me a name? I like to plan what I order ahead of time, so I need to look at the menu.” She pulled her phone out of her clutch, frowning ever so slightly as she noticed her phone didn’t have as much battery as she would have liked. A few taps on the screen had her web browser open and ready, her face turning expectantly to the driver.

 

“The place… is called Tam’s, and you’ll be eating the pasta and meatballs.” The firm tone of voice caused Feyre’s eyebrows to raise, a moment passed and she decided it was due to him being a frequent customer at the restaurant.

 

“Thanks, but I like to make my own choices.” Her tone was light, trying to ease some of the tension out of the car as she typed Tam’s into the search bar, her eyebrows furrowing as she was greeted with listings for an oriental noodle house five hours away. “Tamlin?” she looked back to the man, confusion plastered on her face.

 

“So-uh- there isn’t actually a Tam’s uptown…” he began, swallowing nervously, “but… i live there, so when i said Tam’s i meant it as in… Tam-lin’s, my place, we are going to my place.” His eyes met with Feyre’s for a brief second as she took a minute to process the information. 

 

“People don’t usually see each other’s places until after the first date ” Her voice was stressed as she looked out of the window again, they had turned away from the park, two turns from the right. “Don’t you think a first date should be in a public setting?” her gaze fell back to Tamlin, trying to asses his intention and commitment to his plan.

 

“Actually, I don’t. Do you not find it weird how everyone can just watch you eat? Listen to you getting to know someone?” a glance from the road told Tamlin that Feyre disagreed. “Besides, I did this for you, I know you don’t particularly like eating in front of strangers.” 

 

“Pull over. Now.” She said, the lightness from her voice had faded, replaced with a coldness used to hide her fear. To her surprise, the man pulled over, just as the car started to shrink, the space she was in was too small- too restricting. 

 

When the car came to halt, Feyre couldn’t get out fast enough. The night time breeze caressed her face soothingly as she took in deep breaths, turning to Tamlin who was walking around the car towards her. 

 

“What’s wrong Feyre?” He asked as he approached, hands shoved into his pockets and his shoulders hunched ever so slightly. Feyre thought she heard annoyance in his voice as their eyes met.

 

“I just- it’s weird, isn’t it? We work together and I know we’re- I know we- Tamlin, please can we just go somewhere we’re both comfortable? Please?”

 

“I don’t see what’s wrong with my place? I’ve already made dinner, Feyre. Do you not trust me or something?”

 

“I-”

 

“Really? You don’t trust me. Then why did you agree to this date? To make me look like a fool?”

 

“No!” 

 

“I think it’s better if we just gave this up early. Feyre, we’ll talk about it at work tomorrow. We’ll try again whenever you’re not so,” he waved his hand as if to motion at  _ all _ of her, “emotional. Goodnight.”

 

“No, Tamlin, I didn’t mean-  _ Shit _ .”

 

Her words fell on deaf ears as Tamlin made his way back to the car, using an unnecessary amount of force to close the door. Feyre’s mouth fell open as she watched him drive away, leaving her stranded at the side of the road. 

 

“What. The. Actual. Fuck.” She turned,  kicked a rock into the middle of the road and then began walking back in the direction that they’d came from. 

 

﹌

 

Feyre wandered for ten minutes, using the light from the streetlamps to guide her way through unfamiliar territory. The map on her phone told her that the alleyway up ahead would save her a thirty minute walk compared to going the way they came from and given the ache that was growing in her feet, she welcomed the possibility of getting home earlier. 

 

Her heels echoed down the alleyway as she walked, her eyes flitting around, gauging her surroundings as she walked. No, the cat that jumped out from behind the bin did not scare her, she just needed to practice her jumping. Her heart was still loud in her ears when she turned the corner indicated by her map.

 

The first thing her eyes focused on when her eyes left the screen were the long shadows on the wall, the way they twisted and flickered. Her eyes followed them to the source, a group of men in rough clothes huddled around a metal barrel that held a fire. Her heart sank as she was noticed by the group of men, catcalls rising above the sounds of her blood flowing. Her eyes went wide as one of the closer men lurched towards her.

 

“C’mere pretty… we just wan- we just wanna take care of ya.” his words were echoed by the loud laughs of his friends, they all turned and hobbled after Feyre’s retreating body. 

She started to run, hoping that they would grow tired and go back to whatever they were doing before she interrupted. Just as she was about to break out back onto the main road, the world tilted, pain exploded in her head as her face met the floor. 

 

“Look guys,” a voice behind her slurred, “she’s fallen- pretty has fallen for us!” 

 

She cringed as the comment was met with whoops and cheers which muffled the sound of her groaning as she pushed herself up off the floor. With no time to assess the damage done, she clambered on. A small smile tugged at her lips when she left the alley, it soon faded when she felt calloused hands wrap around her wrist.

 

“Hello pretty.” The stranger’s breathe was hot against the shell of her ear, heavy with the scent of alcohol. 

 

Panic set in as the grip around her arm tightened, causing her to raise her right foot and bring it down as hard as she could. She was met with a crunch and her attacker’s sound of pain as he pushed her away, falling onto the floor with a tight hold on his damaged foot. Silence fell over the rest of his group, a couple of them dropped down to the floor to comfort the wounded party. Feyre’s own breath was heavy, and, as she saw the angry glares she was receiving, she quickly lost the shoes and broke out into another sprint.

 

“Don’t just stand there ya idgits! Go get the girl!” the one that first advanced shouted, his friends all shouting as they ran after Feyre. 

 

It was in this moment that she decided she would castrate Tamlin at work tomorrow, the thought of that mixed with her panic was more than enough to make Feyre keep going. She was doing well until someone came out of the park at the same time she was about to run past it.

 

For the second time that evening, Feyre found herself on the floor. However, this time she wasn’t alone. When she opened her eyes she was met with broad shoulders, pale skin and black hair, fear-filled blue eyes met concerned-filled brown. 

 

“I’m so sorry- I was being chased- these guys were just- and I didn’t-” her rambling was silenced by the group of men approaching. “Don’t let them take me.” She pleaded whilst the stranger helped her up, she straightened up her dress and turned to actually face the person she had to rely on. She baulked as she took in the man’s face. Rhysand.

 

“Don’t worry, it’ll be okay,.” he whispered to her as he wrapped his arm around Feyre’s waist, his thumb drew small circles on her hip in an attempt to soothe her.

 

“Aye, pal, that’s our friend, we were just having some fun, weren’t we? Come on babe, le’s go home.”

 

Feyre was sure that Rhysand could feel her cringing at the drunken slur, her hand was shaking at her side as she stood there silently. 

 

“Actually,  _ pal _ , she’s my pretty. We were supposed to meet ten minutes ago but it seems she got lost.” His voice was cool, disinterested as he looked each of the opposing men up and down. His hand on her hip pulled her body closer to his to make his point as he just stared at the men, waiting for them to challenge him. Feyre was waiting for one of them to make a move before Rhysand broke the silence.

 

“Feyre, darling, let’s skip date night tonight and just go home.’’ His eyes met the three pairs opposite to him before he looked down at Feyre, who couldn’t help but stare at him. She nodded twice, certain that if she spoke her voice would break and she’d cry. 

 

Much to the dismay of the creeps, the two of them turned around and walked towards Feyre’s apartment. She was thankful that he didn’t let go of her, she knew that if he did she would crumple up. 

 

“That’s some strange company you keep, Feyre.” 

 

She didn’t appreciate his attempt of humour.

 

“That’s not funny, Rhysand.”

 

“Fine. Would you care to explain why those creeps were chasing after you? Or why you’re running around wearing that?” 

 

Feyre sighed deeply before looking up at the sky where she noticed the faint shimmering of stars above. 

 

“Fine.” her voice was low, disheartened, as she told him everything.


	5. Breaking bonds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Today just isn't Feyre's day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey!! so, exams are over and college is done!!  
>  i'm challenging myself to update this weekly and to get into a writing routine, yayyyy!!  
> prompts are still being taken, so if there's something you want to see, just leave a comment!  
> comments and kudos are loved and appreciated uwu.  
> i hope you enjoy!

Feyre really tried to keep the smirk off her face, but she just couldn’t keep it at bay. This was much to the dismay of Thesan, the human resources coordinator, who sat behind his desk filling in paperwork. Feyre had heard people talk about how people’s ‘skin glows’ but she had never seen it until meeting Thesan. His dark skin brought images of sunrises to Feyre’s mind, as if he was crafted by the dawn itself. Rich, brown eyes darted across the pages in front of him as his pen checked boxes and signed dotted lines. His eyes were lined with soft golden wings which helped inspire the painting currently taking shape in Feyre’s mind.

 

“And that… is the last box…” His voice was as deep as his eyes, heavy with an accent Feyre couldn’t recognise; he now turned his attention to the computer, mumbling his apologies to the two sat across from him. “Now, seeing as the incident happened outside of the building, I can’t do anything more than log it right now, so Tamlin, as you’re the victim, would you like us to take more formal action?”  

 

“Nah, it’s fine Thesan.” Tamlin’s voice was distorted by the bloody tissue that had been firmly stuffed into his nose. The sound of his voice caused Feyre’s smirk to grow, a thoroughly amused expression now painted onto her face. “Was just surprised a girl cou-”

 

“Tamlin, given the state of your face already, do you really think it’s wise to antagonise her?” Thesan’s eyebrow arched with his question, he dismissed Tamlin with a wave of his hand before he had chance to answer, a couple of taps of his keyboard had a final piece of paper printed off- which he proceeded to slide in front of Feyre, the pen soon accompanying it. 

 

“What’s this?” Feyre looked from the paper to the, now, only other occupant of the room who was settling back into his chair.

 

“It’s just to say that you’ve been spoken to regarding the incident, that you’ve seen me do all that is required of me- that I offered the victim the chance to take the case further etcetera.”

 

“I see.” The scratching sound of pen against paper filled the silence. “Am I good to go?”

 

“Yes, yes.” Thesan took the paper and slid it into the file labelled ‘F. Archeron’, “just- remember how much paperwork this took to settle before you think about punching someone in the face again, okay?” His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes as he watched her leave. 

 

﹌

After she gave a quick explanation as to why she was late to Morrigan, Feyre settled into her work, giving it her full focus as she tried her best to ignore the dull ache in her knuckles.

 

﹌

No one turned up for lunch that day, leaving Feyre to question why she thought they would turn up after this morning’s altercation. She had resigned herself to the fact she would be dining alone when her doorway darkened, causing her to look up from the pasta bowl currently sat on her desk. Her eyes widened to find a normally elusive dark-haired man, leaning against her door frame.

 

“Feyre, darling, not even a ‘hello’ for your knight in shining armour?” 

 

“Rhysand? I- Hello, what are you doing here?” She briskly wiped her mouth with a napkin and set her fork down.

 

“Am I not allowed to check-in with a colleague? Make sure she’s doing okay given the whole ordeal she found herself in last night?” He didn’t wait to be invited in, instead just letting himself sit on the chair across from Feyre.

 

“Well- you could- but isn’t it a bit out of character? Seeing as you’ve never ‘checked-in’ with her before?” She leaned back in her chair and arched her brow, mirroring the man across from her.

 

“I’ve never had a reason to.” The apple on Feyre’s desk found its way into Rhysand’s hand, in turn being shined on his blazer and then bitten into. “Besides, your guard dog is always usually here at this time, with  _ his _ guard dog. Where are they today?”

 

His question was met with a shrug, and a sad glance towards the apple.

 

“I’ve put him out.” She informed him as she picked up her fork and continued her meal. 

 

“I heard you did a lot more than that.” A low chuckle reverberated in his chest as he leaned towards the desk, resting his arms on the mahogany feature.

 

“I may have given him what he deserved after the way he treated me yesterday, what can I say, he had it coming.”

 

“That he did, he did indeed.” The apple had been reduced to its core, which was handed to Feyre to dispose of in the bin under her desk. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I owe my cousin some lunch.” 

 

Rhysand smiled to Feyre, a genuine smile that was gone in a second, as he got up from the chair and left her office, leaving Feyre confused with her pasta.

 

﹌

 

About an hour before the work day ended, Feyre received a text from Tamlin, asking her to meet him on his floor, she just rolled her eyes and went back to trying to figure out the measurements needed for a new billboard the company had commissioned. 

 

﹌

 

Feyre had every intention of heading straight down to the lobby and leaving, but the elevator stopped on Tamlin’s floor to allow people to get on and her ride wasn’t due for fifteen minutes. So she stepped off the growingly crowded lift and went in search of the man she had injured only hours ago.

 

With no preconception of the floor plan for this floor, Feyre walked around slowly, peering into offices in an attempt to locate Tamlin. She clutched her bag strap tightly as she walked, having shared a smile with a cleaning lady who was setting up the hoover. Her grasp loosened as she came to the last office, the blinds were closed but the door was left slightly ajar, it beckoned her closer.

 

Without thinking, she opened the door of the office, and was met with a scream that sounded awfully female. It took a second for Feyre’s eyes to focus on the figure on the chair- that actually turned out to be two separate people.

 

“I am so sorry- I thought Tamlin would be here.” She quickly made to retreat from the room, her hand clasped the handle of the door.

 

“Tamlin  _ is _ here.” His voice was shaky. “What are  _ you _ doing here?”

 

“You texted me to come?” The door was returned to its previous state, standing open enough to allow the conversation to pass through.

 

“Yeah, like an hour ago.”

 

“I was busy, figured it wouldn’t hurt to make you wait for a bit.”

 

The door was pulled open, meaning Feyre (who was leant against it) stumbled back into the room. When she straightened herself up, her eyes fell on the woman currently buttoning up her shirt. Her gaze was quickly averted to the shame-washed man stood next to her. 

 

“Well, Feyre, was it?” The woman slid off the desk, her heels landed firmly onto the floor before she stalked towards the two at the door. As Tamlin stepped out of her way, she brushed past Feyre, looking down her nose at her. “The name’s Amarantha.”


	6. Overtime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just another day in the office, that just so happens to be longer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all!  
> Sorry, this has taken so long to get to you, it was just hard to sit down and actually get it done.  
> Where would you like the company retreat to be? Skiing? or the beach?  
> As always, comments and Kudos are loved and appreciated!  
> I hope you enjoy reading!
> 
> ps. this hasn't been beta'd so any mistakes are my own, and I apologise.

Feyre had done her very best to avoid Tamlin after she caught him in his office the day before. However, Feyre’s luck never did last too long, and ran out whilst she was halfway through her lunch. 

 

She had been interrupted by Lucien knocking on her door, waving at her as they made eye contact. She gladly let him in, but wasn’t prepared for Tamlin who had been hiding around the corner, he approached her holding a branch. Yup, an actual branch. Her eyebrow was raised in question as she made to shut her door, quite happy to just be avoiding him.

 

“Wait- its an olive branch-” A sheepish smile tugged at the corner of his lips as his words caused Feyre to cease movement. 

 

“Why is there an olive branch in your hand?” Her voice had a quizzical edge.

 

“I’m extending it.” True to his word, he held the branch out to her, eliciting a not-so-subtle scoff. 

 

“And what am I supposed to do with an olive branch?” she rolled her eyes and retreated into her office, leaving her door open for the other to follow.

 

She left the branch on her desk before she sat down once more in her chair, Tamlin was awkwardly stood against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest as his eyes scanned the room.

 

“I’m sor-” his apology was lost by the arrival of a certain dark haired individual.

 

“Feyre, darling, I’m surprised to see you let the dogs back in so soon.” His smug grin was met with annoyed glances as he moved Tamlin out of his way so he could enter the room. 

 

“How can I help you Rhysand?” her voice sounded bored as she drank from her travel mug.

 

“I’m helping with organising the company retreat, so I’m here to give you a ballot.” He handed Feyre a sheet of paper that had a list of travel destinations, “I’ll collect it on Friday, so make sure it’s done by the end of the day on Friday.” Reluctantly, he handed a piece of paper to Tamlin and Lucien, which Feyre noted as it meant he didn’t have control over the invitations.

 

“Funny to see how Amarantha’s whore is now an errand boy, is she _that_ good?” Lucien scoffed at Tamlin’s remark. For a split second, Rhysand seemed to deflate, Feyre was sure she had seen his shoulders sag and his eyes dim. She must have imagined it, for Rhysand licked his lips and turned towards the man still standing against the doorframe.

 

“You should hear how I make her scream Tamlin, you could learn a lot from her and I. of course, lesson one would be not to abandon your date at the side of the road.” His smug grin was front and centre as he patted Tamlin’s shoulder. Feyre couldn’t help but notice that Tamlin had a more muscular build whilst Rhysand was much leaner, one could still see his muscles but they were still less prominent. It seemed that whilst Tamlin had access to physical power, Rhysand had reserves of mental power. 

 

﹌

 

**Tamlin**

 

  
Amarantha’s whore?

_Delivered_

  
  


Yeah, he’s been sleeping around with her 

ever since she started. Pretty sure it was

on her first day they did it. Why?

_Received_

 

I’m just procrastinating, and plus

I forgot to ask you at lunch earlier.

_Delivered_

 

I see, I see. Which retreat option are you

voting for?

_Received_

 

I’m torn between the beach and the 

skiing options, you?

_Delivered_

 

I’ll probably end up voting for whatever you

vote for, so let me know! :)

_Received_

 

Too scared to make a choice for yourself

I see, anyways, I’m going to finally finish

this piece, bye T.

_Delivered_

 

Goodbye, Feyre.

_Received._

 

﹌

Feyre had thought working overtime was a great idea, until she had to actually stay behind and work the hours. Morrigan had come to join her in her office as she had also volunteered to do the overtime. They were working in silence, save for the odd ‘can you pass me..?’ which was followed by the exchange of some drawing utensil.

 

﹌

They were an hour through their scheduled three-hour extension when Morrigan stretched her arms and suggested a break. Her phone was in her hand before Feyre had even set her pen down, her fingers typing out on the screen with a hurried pace.

 

“So, I just ordered us pizza, cheese,  just to be safe.” she leaned back in her chair as she stretched her legs, a content sigh filling the silence.

 

“Not very safe if I were lactose intolerant.” Feyre pointed out, a smug grin on her face.

 

“I- yeah that’s true, but I’ve also seen you destroy cheese-topped pasta on plenty of occasions, sooooooooo-” they both laughed.

 

Feyre honestly didn’t know why Lucien and Tamlin warned her to stay away from Morrigan, she had grew fond of the woman. She was business-savvy, a smart head on her shoulders that was fully capable of distinguishing between the need to the boss, and the need to be a friend. A seemingly good person through and through.

 

﹌

 

They had continued their work whilst waiting for the food to be delivered. The wait was a lot shorter than expected- given that it was delivered to the very room they were in.

 

“Here is the knight in shining armour, here to save the damsels from the dreaded foe that is hunger.” Rhysand breezed into the room holding their food, his grin wide on his face as always. 

 

“We are not damsels in distress, you’re just cheaper than paying for delivery.” Morrigan helped herself to the pizza, glad she had the chance to knock Rhysand down a few pegs. The comment made Feyre chuckle as she sank her teeth into her own slice. 

 

“Amarantha’s whore, errand boy and cheap delivery guy all in one day. A guy of many talents.” A low chuckle filled the room as Rhysand helped himself to a slice of pizza, much to the protest of Morrigan. 

 

“You shouldn’t listen to them Rhys, especially not Tamlin, he just enjoys pushing your buttons.” Morrigan’s voice was muffled as she made short work of the pizza in her hand. “Plus, you don’t help yourself by actually reacting to them.”

 

“Yeah, I know, but they’re just so fun to play with. Especially Tamlin, his buttons are the best to push.” The comment was met with an eye roll from each of the women in the room.

 

The two of them bantered and talked whilst Feyre sat and observed their interaction, she couldn’t help but notice a different sense of ease around Rhysand. He always seemed at ease, always exuding confidence… but this ease felt more natural as he fell into conversation with someone he was clearly comfortable with. She couldn’t lie, it was nice to see him comfortable, even if for such a short amount of time. Feyre had seen this side of him three times now, and wondered why Tamlin and Lucien still believed he was a bad guy.

 

﹌

 

Feyre eventually included herself into the conversation, but she didn’t feel like the other two were ignoring her up until that point- it was more like they understood, and just didn’t want to make her feel awkward. She was happy to be welcomed into their bantering for the rest of the shift. Morrigan and Feyre had gotten considerably less work done with Rhysand present, but the work was still done nonetheless.

 

When the shift ended, Rhysand had offered a Feyre a lift home, something about ‘heading that way anyway.’ Feyre didn’t want to seem rude, or pay out for a taxi, so she accepted the offer.

 

They made idle small talk the entire journey home, shallow conversation used to fill a potentially awkward silence.

 

﹌

“Which retreat choice are you going to vote for?” He asked once they pulled up outside of Feyre’s apartment.

 

“I’m torn between skiing and the beach. What about you?”

 

“I’ve been here long enough to have been to every retreat, so I’m not too bothered about where, but if you let me know what you choose in advance then I’ll vote for that too.. Y’know, to try and make sure you get what you want.” He winked at her, eyes shining with mischief.

 

“Why do you care if I get what I want?” Her eyebrow was raised as she turned to face him, her seatbelt having just been taken off.

 

“Because the first time is always special.” A suggestive eyebrow wiggle followed, causing Feyre’s mind to go back to an earlier conversation.

 

“Amarantha’s whore-” the light in his eyes dimmed, his body visibly sagging, “why dod they call you Amarantha’s whore?”

 

“Because they don’t understand. Goodnight Feyre.” The dismissal caught her off guard, she scrambled to open the door.

 

“Thank you for the ride… drive home safely.” She had barely closed the door before the car sped away, a wave of guilt washed over her as she watched as the vehicle disappeared around the corner.


	8. Disruption

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The normalcy of Pyrthian is disrupted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone!   
> I hope you all enjoy this chapter!!  
> Comments and Kudos are very much appreciated, so feel free to leave them!  
> Happy reading!

Feyre had gotten to work earlier than normal as she needed to complete the paperwork for her last project which she had been putting off, much to Morrigan’s protests. So, there she was an hour before she usually arrives. She quickly made her way to the cafeteria that occupied the space leading off from the lobby, her target was caffeine. She welcomed the change of cold corporate decor in exchange for the more summer-esque design.

 

The walls were a clear allusion to a beautiful beach, hidden somewhere in a foreign of the world. Sandstone, which had been painted on, white whorls reminiscent of waves crashing against the beach. Seashells had been spray painted gold and were scattered around the decent-sized space. Said space was filled with round tables of various sized, covered with a white cloth and a plant in a metallic pot. 

 

A yellow neon sign was hung above the hatch. The harsh colour didn’t quite match the summertime beach theme, but it could be a tenuous link to the sun. ‘Adriata’ Feyre read as she approached the hatch. Her eyes moved from the sign to the line of breakfast options, eyeing each of them up as viable choices. Her mind was made up as she spotted a platter of freshly baked pastries. 

 

She looked up to notice a man with an apron wrapped around his waist. His white shirt was a stark contrast against his dark mahogany skin. White hair was tied up into a hair net, crystal blue eyes watching her watching him. 

 

“Can I help you?” His voice was quiet as he dusted his flour-covered hands on his apron.

 

“I’d like a couple of croissants and a large coffee please.” She smiled a small smile as she fished her purse out of her bag.

 

“Coming right up.” He smiled back and began preparing the coffee machine, bagging two croissants once the coffee started to fill up the cup. “I haven’t seen you around here before, are you new?” 

 

“Somewhat, I guess. I’m Feyre, I work up in design.” She handed over the money, awaiting her change and breakfast.

 

“Nice to meet you Feyre, I’m Tarquin. Don’t be a stranger.” His smile was as genuine as his tone as he handed over the purchased goods. 

 

﹌

Feyre was crossing the lobby when the sound of laughter filled the empty space. She turned her head towards the sound, an eyebrow raised with curiosity. Her eyes were met with her tall, black-haired friend and a shorter red-head whom she had mainly heard about from rumours and whispers. Amarantha and Rhysand had entered the building. Her arm was draped over his, her signature feline smile upon her lips as they made eye contact.

 

A couple of seconds later they were kissing, she had pulled his face down and had begun making out with him. Her eye was wide open, focused on Feyre but Rhysand closed his, seemingly enjoying the kiss. 

 

To say she was thoroughly grossed out by Amarantha’s eye would be an understatement, which caused Feyre to hastily make her way to the elevator and make her way up to her floor.

 

﹌

Feyre had finished the project with a handful of hours to spare. She had handed it to Morrigan who told her to take a break. So, there she was, sat at her desk as she ate her second croissant in peace. Due to lack of stimulus, her mind started to wonder, her thoughts leading her back to that morning with Rhysand and Amarantha in the lobby. 

 

She had been carried away in her thinking, trying to narrow down the causal reason for Amarantha’s eye contact during the kiss, so she had missed Morrigan knocking on the door. This resulted in an annoyed sigh, followed with the slam of a folder onto her desk. The noise ripped her from her thoughts and caused her to jump back in her chair as she stared up at the other woman.   
  


“Wakey, wakey Feyre, time to work.” A wicked smile pulled at Mor’s lips, clearly amused by the startled reaction she elicited. “Our new project is aimed at improving public relations, the file contains information about key demographics, areas of interest etcetera. Think of this as an opportunity for new investors also, if they see us becoming more ‘people-friendly’ they may want in.”

 

Her explanation was met with an understanding nod.

 

“I want proposals on my desk by Monday, Archeron.” She moved away from the desk, heading to the door,

 

“Wait! Morrigan-” she turned back to look at Feyre. “What’s the deal between Rhysand and Amarantha?” Feyre’s voice was small as she asked.

 

“What's it to do with you?” Morrigan tilted her head, her hand rested on her hip.

 

“Nothing.. I’m just curious. Tamlin said she wasn’t a good person, so why would he be interested in someone like her?” 

 

“Doesn’t Tamlin also say Rhysand is a bad guy?” 

 

“Well- yeah, but--”

 

“But nothing, Feyre, it's their business, not ours.”

 

“So, you don’t know either?”

A nod. An exit.

 

﹌

Feyre’s day consisted of reading the file and taking notes, highlighting important parts and picking out useful information. This had to be the most boring part of her job, but it had to be done to get to the fun stuff. As she built her own bank of notes, her mind began building possible ideas to pitch.

 

She was lost in designing a colour palette, therefore failed to notice her doorway darken with the shadows of two strangers. It wasn’t until they knocked the third time she noticed them. The first she noticed was classically handsome, his expression unreadable. He was tall, with dark hair, tan skin and broad shoulders. HIs shirt did little to hide the muscles underneath.

 

The second was also a very handsome male, maybe they were brothers, given their similar looks. This one’s hair was longer, barely reaching past his shoulders. Equally as muscular as the first. 

 

“May I help you-?” she cleared her throat as she set her file down.

 

“We’re hoping so. I’m Cassian, this is my partner Azriel.” The long-haired man introduced them both as they sat across from Feyre. 

 

“I’m Feyre, Archeron. What brings you by?” 

 

“We are from Night Court Security, and we’ve been contracted to investigate some odd-goings-on here in Pyrthian,” Cassian spoke again, he appeared to be the spokesperson.

 

“I see, well I hope I’m able to assist the investigation.” Her compliance was met with a nod of affirmation from Azriel.

 

“Thank you. There appears to be a criminal in the ranks of your company. Embezzlement.” The room was silent as she watched the two men watching her.

 

“Embezzlement? And you think I would know who it was?” She leaned back in her chair, disliking the heavy atmosphere that was hanging over them.

 

“Whilst that would be convenient, we know it is unlikely. We are simply here to interview suspects, build character profiles and determine where the money is being siphoned to and who is embezzling it.” Azriel’s first words, his voice was low, smooth.

 

“Wait- I’m a suspect?” She couldn’t help her voice rising slightly.

 

“It’s nothing personal, there’s a number of employees we are looking into. Covering the bases. After all, a new employee starts and then money starts going missing? Awfully coincidental, don’t you think?” Cassian was the one talking again.

 

“I don’t think I like what you’re implying. So why don’t you start asking your questions so I can get back to work.” 

 

“Starting is always a good way to get things moving along.” A chuckle followed by the flick of paper. “How did you come about working at Pyrthian?”

 

“Well-”

 

﹌

She spent an hour answering their questions about her, her ties to other employees, her personal history. She felt mentally drained at the end of it.

 

“That’s all the questions we have for you now. We will be in touch, and if you have any other information, or you find something out, call us here.” A business card was slid across the desk. 

 

“Am I still a suspect?” She asked as they all stood up. The men shared a look before Azriel spoke.

 

“Look- we can’t rule you out completely, not this early into the investigation anyway, but I think we both will be focusing our efforts elsewhere.” A small smile offered as reassurance and then they left.

 

Feyre found that she couldn’t focus on her work after their visit, so it was a very unproductive afternoon.


End file.
